The Stakes
by WitandAmbition
Summary: All Daphne Greengrass wants is to gain custody of her cousin's children. All Harry Potter wants is to live his own life. Can these two people help each other? (EWE, eventual HP/DG)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

"Now stay right here and don't move, okay? Cora, can you keep an eye on him for me?"

"Yes, Aunt Daffy."

Daphne didn't bother to correct her young cousin of the nickname as she made a quick check of the kitchen. Finding none of the children's things, she then checked her bedroom, where she usually let Cora and Jason sleep with her when they visited, and then the bathroom. Once ascertaining that everything had been collected, she then returned to the door, where the children were waiting. Jason had wandered a short distance away to the window, though Cora kept a stern eye on him just as Daphne requested.

With only a bit of difficulty, Daphne lifted Jason up so he could see out the window.

"Is the coast clear?" she asked him. "No bad guys around?"

"None!"

She set him down again, took his hand firmly in her own, and then, after steeling herself, opened the door. She stepped outside cautiously, peered around, and then gestured for Cora to follow her. Cora did so, standing to the side as she waited for Daphne to close and secure the door. Unlike Jason, who was too young to understand the need for secrecy, Cora knew they couldn't be seen performing magic by the Muggles. Cora's body was angled to cover the view of the video camera situated on the building across the street.

"There, let's go," said Daphne.

Cora automatically slipped her hand into Daphne's free one. They then walked a few steps down to reach the busy city street. Daphne made sure that Jason, who was fascinated by the vehicles passing by them, was never near the curb. Close to the major street intersection, they found a cab stand and climbed into the first taxi to pull up.

"Why aren't we taking the Tube?" asked Cora.

"Because this way, we can spend more time together," Daphne answered. Traffic was high so it would take longer to reach the Refuge.

She winced as a particularly loud horn honked outside the window, and then quickly grabbed onto the children, preventing them from flying forward as the taxi's brakes squealed.

"God, I hate Muggles," she muttered.

Music playing from the radio was grating on her ears. She was really beginning to regret this decision. Jason, however, had his nose pressed to the smudged window, and was animatedly pointing out people and landmarks to his older sister.

"Get away from there, Jason," Cora said irritably.

Jason glanced at Daphne, who nodded. He sank into his seat and frowned down at the dirty floor of the cab.

The worst part of it all was when they reached their destination and Daphne discovered she hadn't brought enough money.

"Here," she snapped, flipping a galleon at the driver who had begun yelling at her.

He shut up as he caught the golden coin and looked at it in amazement.

"It's solid gold," Daphne added.

His eyes now wide, he climbed back behind the wheel and took off before she could try to take back the coin.

 _Good luck trying to exchange it,_ Daphne thought with a snort.

Then, firming her shoulders, she turned to face the building behind her. This was always the worst part.

Although the Refuge was called an orphanage, not all of the wards were without a family. Some of them were like Jason and Cora, with kin who were willing to take them in, but the government was unwilling to release custody of the children to 'scum like Death Eaters'.

No one in Daphne's family had even been a Death Eater. They were just associated with them due to being in Slytherin.

Upon crossing through the gates, the actual orphanage was revealed rather than the façade exposed to the Muggles. A grassy area was crisscrossed with sidewalks and surrounded by houses. Each residence had a married couple watching over their assigned children, giving them the semblance of parents. Astoria had tried to become a houseparent, but was rejected due to her single status. Daphne hadn't even bothered applying, despite wanting to be closer to Cora and Jason. Even if she were married, she doubted she would be accepted.

Mrs. Borg opened the door as soon as Daphne knocked.

"Did anyone see you come in?"

"No, I don't think so," Daphne replied as she ushered the children into the house.

Mrs. Borg breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," she said. "A tour is being given today, but they didn't tell us when the representatives are coming."

"Tour? Representatives?"

"The public wants to see what the Refuge is like," Mrs. Borg explained. "Of course, to increase the press coverage, Harry Potter is among the representatives."

"Of course," Daphne muttered, and then, before the matron could scold her, she asked in a louder tone, "Will they be bothering the children?"

"Hopefully, they will only observe the children from a distance," said Mrs. Borg. "If not…" She sighed. "There is not much I can do to stop them."

It took all of her effort for Daphne to not let out a heavy sigh. She looked at the stairs up which Cora and Jason had disappeared and wished she could take them back with her to her small apartment. That couldn't be done, though. Mrs. Borg was already risking trouble just by letting Daphne sneak the children out for a short sleep-over.

She took a deep breath and then forced a polite smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Borg –"

"Ophelia. Call me Ophelia, dear. You visit often enough that I think we can be classified as friends."

This time, Daphne's smile was more genuine, small as it was.

"Thank you, Ophelia," she said. "And please, call me Daphne."

Ophelia smiled back at her. "It would be my pleasure, dear."

Just then, there was the distinct cracking sound of Apparation. Rushing to the window, Daphne saw a large crowd had arrived in front of the gates. Several of the people were holding cameras and were already snapping photos. Daphne's chest tightened. She hoped that, since it was so early in the morning, none of the children would be venturing outside to play. They were not monkeys to perform tricks for the media. They were children, who should not be judged by their parents' sins.

"Quickly, dear," Ophelia whispered to her, though there was no one to hear them. "They must have lowered the Apparating wards. If you leave through the back, then you can get out without anyone seeing you."

Daphne briefly clasped the elderly woman's hand.

"Thank you," she said again, softly.

"You're welcome, dear," Ophelia replied, squeezing Daphne's hand in return. "Now go, before they start wandering around and see you."

Daphne nodded and hurried to the back door. Once outside, she felt the anti-Apparation wards that were inside the house disappear. She closed her eyes, spun on her heel, and disappeared with a crack.

* * *

As soon as the group was distracted by the arrival of an official, Harry took the opportunity to escape the reporters. He was sure Kingsley noticed him leaving, but the Minister made no move to stop him. More than likely, Harry wouldn't be needed until it was time for the photo shoot.

Something gold flashed in the corner of his eye. Frowning, he glanced around, wondering if he had been followed. It wouldn't be surprising if a reporter used this event to get an exclusive story. There was no one to be seen, though, so Harry shrugged it off as the sun rays striking something at an odd angle.

Harry let out a breath and tried to relax. Ever since his defeat of Voldemort, every moment of his life seemed to be catalogued by the press. It had gotten to the point that he feared the paparazzi more than the Death Eaters who had escaped capture.

These were the same Death Eaters he wasn't allowed to help hunt down. Although he was supposed to be an Auror, his only role was to smile for the camera.

He looked up at the house he had hidden behind. It was nothing remarkable, but he wondered if his own life would have been better if he had stayed in such a place. Then he snapped out of that thought process. He'd seen the memories of Tom Riddle in the orphanage, and it had been no better than the Dursley residence.

 _Ah, Potter,_ he thought to himself. _What has become of you?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

Ginny had just graduated from Hogwarts, Harry had just graduated from a fast-track version of the Auror training, and Hermione kept giving them glances like she expected there to be a ring on Ginny's finger any day now. More surprising was that Mrs. Weasley wasn't giving them the same looks, although she did find excuses for Harry and Ginny to be in the same room together. Most of the time, Ginny acted like none of it was happening, but sometimes there was a conversation like this which made Harry wonder when she expected him to propose.

"Snape's portrait is up in the Headmistress' office," Ginny told him as they set the table. "I thought you'd like that."

"What?" Harry turned his gaze from his task. "Oh, yeah. I suppose."

She smiled and pushed one strand of fiery hair behind her ear. "Well, he did save you, after all."

"He didn't," said Harry. "He was pointlessly murdered. And I would've sacrificed myself anyway."

Her smile dropped and she rounded the table. With one gentle hand, she stopped him from laying down the next knife. "Harry," she said softly. "Snape did a lot for us."

He let out a breath. Although he was grateful for what Snape had done, it didn't make up for the rest of Snape's actions. Nearly twenty years of abuse couldn't be forgiven just because of a few good deeds.

"Well, don't expect one of our kids to be named after him," he said. "James and Severus Potter? That's asking for disaster."

"Are you sure? I rather like the name James Severus Potter."

Somewhere, Harry was certain that both his father and Snape were having a conniption. He could only hope that Ginny had been joking. Still, in case she was serious, he said, "Maybe if we have two sons, the second one can have Severus as a middle name."

She smiled again. "It's a deal."

Mrs. Weasley came outside then with a large pot of stew. To celebrate Ginny and Hermione's graduation from Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley insisted the entire family come to the house for dinner. Noticing Ron following behind his mother, Harry averted his gaze. Despite his efforts, he had not been able to get Ron into the same fast-track program, so Ron still had another two years of Auror training.

Unwilling to look directly at his friend, Harry covertly watched Ron from beneath his lashes. For once, he was grateful for his glasses; they helped cover eye movement. Ron set the other pot of stew on the table, unaware of Harry's guilty gaze.

"Has anyone seen Hermione?" asked Ron.

"She said she'll be here later," Ginny answered. "Something about her parents."

"Look who I found!" another voice crowed.

Charlie had just rounded the side of the house while pulling a bedraggled George behind him. It looked like George was even wearing the same clothes he'd gone to bed in. A lump of emotion formed in Harry's throat. He hadn't seen George since Christmas, before George moved out of the Burrow and back into the flat he had shared with Fred.

"Hey, mate," Harry said, standing to greet George.

George looked at him with vacant eyes. "Hey," he said in a tone lacking any vitality. "You look exhausted."

Harry blinked and then forced a smile. "You too."

From Mrs. Weasley's sharp inhalation, he knew that was the wrong thing to say, but then, ever so slightly, so minute he wasn't sure if it actually happened, Harry thought he saw George's lips shift.

Ron also came over to greet his brother.

"You weren't in the last time I visited," he said, slinging an arm over George's shoulders. "Too busy with the shop, eh?"

George blinked slowly. "Yeah, must've been."

"Well, if you ever need help, I'm here."

"Yeah," George said in the same toneless voice.

Ron's own expression was now downcast, like he hated himself for not knowing what to do. Harry was in a similar situation and after a grimace and a slight shake of the head to Ron, he wandered back over to Ginny, who had begun talking to Percy. He had just arrived with his girlfriend, Audrey Greaves, a Muggleborn he had rescued during the war. Mrs. Weasley was particularly fond of Audrey, who had helped Percy see the error of his ways. If it hadn't been for her, Percy never would have reconciled with the family before Fred died.

As they all sat around the large picnic table, Harry wished he had thought of bringing Teddy. His godson was now a year old and absolutely loved being outside. His birthday gift from Harry had been a broom, and Teddy's favorite sport had quickly become chasing Harry around the yard while Andromeda watched on, a wistful smile upon her face. When Teddy was around, the age lines from the war eased from her eyes. It always eased a small part of Harry's heart when he saw it happen.

"Earth to Harry…"

He startled back to reality when Ron waved a hand in front of his face.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, finally noticing the person next to Ron. "When'd you get here?"

She grinned at him. "Just now. What were you thinking about?"

"Teddy," he answered, a note of fondness in his voice.

To his surprise, Hermione's brows drew together in concern.

"Because of the orphanage?" she asked quietly.

Harry's chest tightened. In actuality, he had not once thought of Teddy while he was visiting the Refuge. He knew he should have. Teddy was just like those children, except he had a grandmother and godfather to look after him.

Underneath the table, Ginny squeezed his hand.

"Teddy's nothing like those kids," she said soothingly. "His parents were good, upstanding people instead of criminals."

For a moment, Harry thought he stopped breathing. Her words echoed in his ears, and all he could think about was how Aunt Petunia referred to his own parents. Slowly he turned to face his girlfriend, who immediately realized she had said something wrong. She looked earnestly into his eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," she assured him, her own brown eyes wide as she tried to convince him.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm sure you didn't," he said.

With deliberate motions, he turned back to his stew and ate a mouthful. Ginny frowned but otherwise said nothing more. Across from them, Ron opened his mouth, and Harry knew what he was going to say before the words even came out.

"Well, Ginny's right, isn't she? Teddy's not like those kids…"

"Ron," Harry said in a forcibly neutral tone, "if you do not shut up, I am going to punch you."

Hermione must have done something, for Ron's mouth snapped shut again. Instead, he settled for looking between Harry and Ginny, his expression tight.

For the rest of the dinner, Harry was just as quiet and animated as George. Afterward, he quietly dismissed himself, citing his exhaustion from the tour earlier. Mr. Weasley raised one eyebrow but waved him away for some rest. George watched him walk away, his eyes tightening ever so slightly, and Harry was glad to see some emotion from him. Envy was better than nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

Harry lowered the newspaper, a sour taste in the back of his mouth. He really hoped the marriage law wouldn't be enacted. It wasn't a law that forced marriage or anything ridiculous like that, but one which gave an incentive for couples to have two or more children. He wondered if Ginny knew about it and that was why she was so eager when he brought up their children's names a few days ago.

"Severus Potter," he muttered derisively to himself. "What the _hell_ was I thinking?"

 _That you love Ginny and if a name makes her happy, why should you protest?_

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Hopefully she would allow him control of the other names. He didn't want to see what else she could come up with. Pigwidgeon was a cute name for a pet, but if Ginny's names for their children were similarly creative, Severus was actually a good option in comparison.

Throwing the newspaper aside, he decided to go for a stroll and stood from his desk. The other Aurors in the office eyed him with contempt as he left. Long since used to such looks, Harry ignored them and went to the elevator. Kingsley would send him a Patronus if he was needed for anything, but that was doubtful. Harry usually had at least a day's notice before he was expected for an event.

After fetching a sandwich from the Ministry's cafeteria, Harry settled on the edge of the fountain in the atrium and watched the flow of people while eating. Here, everyone was in too much of a rush to notice him. He liked it that way.

Once again, a flash of gold caught his eye. Harry frowned, wondering why the color of the young woman's hair was so familiar. She had just exited the hall which contained the lifts and headed toward the wand registering station. After a short conversation, the guard checked her wand and then handed it back to her. Then she hurried to one of the gilded fireplaces and in a whirl of green flames, departed the Ministry.

Harry shook his head and took another bite of his sandwich. She must have been one of the Slytherins from his time. Several of them had been conscripted into working for the Department of Mystery, and they always had their wands checked for prior magic before they were allowed to leave the building.

A paper airplane poked Harry in the head, drawing him out of his thoughts. He plucked it out of the air, made sure it was his own name written on the wing, and then read the note. For a long moment, he just stared at it. Then he crumpled up the note and sighed.

Shortly after the war ended, Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. In the same trial, Narcissa had been confined to her own home, which was the best Harry could do for her. He knew she would expect him to do more in Draco's upcoming trial, though.

He would have to speak with Hermione. She had only just started her job today, but judging by her note, she was already in a position to know the Ministry's major operations. With her help, he might be able to get the youngest Malfoy's sentence down from ten years to only five. It was less than what Draco deserved, but unfortunately, Harry owed it to Mrs. Malfoy.

* * *

Daphne waited for almost five minutes before she realized no one was about to answer the door. Cautiously, she opened it and then immediately winced. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to warn her mother she would be visiting. Maybe she wouldn't have been walking into an argument then.

Following the raised voices to the parlor, she found her mother and younger sister facing each other. Astoria stood with her hands placed on her hips and looked more like a preteen girl not getting her way rather than her true seventeen years.

"They're my friends! Why can't I see them?"

"And are these the same _friends_ ," their mother said, her distaste for the term clear in her tone, "who are encouraging you to drop out of school?"

"It's not like getting my N.E.W.T.s will achieve anything," Astoria snapped. "Besides, if Harry Potter can skip his last year, why can't I?"

"Because it's safer in school," said Daphne, drawing their attention to her. Astoria's face had initially lit up, but any hope she had of Daphne supporting her had just been dashed, and now she looked irritated at the interruption. "Trust me, Tori, it's much worse in the real world. And if you _don't_ get your N.E.W.T.s, then you have to work in something like retail."

Astoria crossed her arms. " _Or_ I could become a famous Quidditch player," she said snippily.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Sure, if you were dating Harry Potter. Then you could also get an award for doing almost nothing in the war."

She understood why Potter got an award; he had, after all, destroyed Voldemort. It also made sense for Longbottom, who had lead the rebellion inside Hogwarts. Even Finnigan and Corner, who had suffered an extensive amount of torture, probably deserved an award. The Weaslette, however, had done nothing but look pretty, safe behind the protection of the DA and, if rumors were to be believed, Snape as well. Until the Final Battle, she hadn't been involved in any of the fights, and as a result, she was the only member of Dumbledore's Army who came out of the war unscathed.

Of course, the Weaslette insisted otherwise, and her venture into Snape's office for the sword was painted as a heroic endeavor.

Astoria's mouth twisted and she deliberately pushed Daphne out of the way as she left the room. Eyes widening, Daphne watched her sister stalk up the stairs. Never had Astoria been so rude to her before. Things at Hogwarts must have been worse than she thought.

Once they heard the door to Astoria's room slam closed, Daphne's mother sagged into a chair and touched her temple while closing her eyes. "We should've sent you both to Durmstrang," she murmured.

An ache formed in Daphne's throat. They had relatives in Denmark who attended Durmstrang, so she knew she could have had a pleasant education there, but that option had long since gone past, even for Astoria.

"Things will get better, Mum," she said. "I promise. We'll get Alexander's kids and we'll all be happy again."

"Of course we will, dear," her mother responded, but she didn't open her eyes, which was a silent statement of her own beliefs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

A few days later, Hermione stormed into Grimmauld Place, her expression one of determination. Harry resisted the urge to slink upstairs to his room and hide. He knew from experience that she would only follow him and shout through the door.

"Lucius received punishment for war crimes," she said, dropping her bag onto the table; it landed with a loud thud which shook the table. "Our best route for Draco is to pursue one for crimes against peace. He planned a lot of things, but none of them worked out."

"Fantastic," said Harry, staring at the bag. "Er, how many books do you have in there?"

"Oh, some of them aren't for this case," Hermione said, which didn't actually answer his question.

As she sat down, she took a band from her wrist and swept her hair up into a ponytail away from her face. Then she reached inside the bag, her arms going inside all the way as she used all of her strength to pull out a thick tome. She had almost gotten it out when she stopped, her brow furrowing.

"I could have used a Summoning Charm," she whispered to herself. "Stupid Hermione, why don't you ever _think_?"

Knowing better than to answer her mutterings, Harry took the book from her; even he had difficulty lifting it. He glanced at the title: _The History of Family Laws in the United Kingdom_.

"I think you got the wrong book," he said uncertainly.

Hermione glanced up from a list she had drawn out of her pocket. "No, it might apply to this case, too. We have to think of _every_ angle, Harry. It's possible Malfoy felt obligated to become a Death Eater due to some old pureblood laws."

At a loss for a response, Harry heaved the book open and stared at the table of contents in muted horror. He had no idea where to even begin. Lifting the page slightly, he began skimming the introduction, and felt his stomach drop when he saw the phrase 'matrimonial law'.

"Have you heard about the marriage law?" he asked.

Hermione grunted. "It's more like a Reproduction Act," she muttered. "Though the government didn't want to alarm anyone, of course, by saying our population is declining and we need to produce more children."

The population policy being imposed encouraged matrimony through marriage loans and would give supplements for each new child. There had also been talk of punishing abortion operations, but Amycus Carrow's victims rose up in protest and that part was removed from the bill.

"It's a damn good thing, too," Susan Bones had said darkly earlier that day when Harry was in the Leaky Cauldron. She often took her lunches at the inn, entertaining Hannah while Harry, Ron, and Neville discussed their Auror training and, in Harry's case, the propaganda he was helping to promote.

When Harry told them about his visit to the orphanage, Neville had shaken his head.

"Better you than me, mate," he said. "I'm already thinking about quitting the Aurors."

Ron had looked at him in shock. "You can't leave me," he protested.

"Not yet," Neville assured him. "But in a few years, I want to do something else."

Despondent for the rest of the meal, Ron had begged off the night's research session, insisting he needed to check on George. Since it was true, Harry had let him by with the excuse, although now he was wishing he hadn't. He could have used a comrade to distract him from this misery. His chin rested on his hand and he was gazing sightlessly ahead. Thus far, Hermione hadn't noticed him not working. He didn't even realize it himself until he heard Hermione close another book.

Startled out of his reverie, Harry made a point of yawning and stretching in his seat. He glanced at the old watch on his wrist. Only an hour had passed since Hermione had arrived.

"I'm knackered," he said, "and I'm expected for dinner at the Tonks'. What d'you say we call it a night?"

Slowly Hermione raised her gaze from the book, a line between her brows.

"Harry, if we don't come up with a good defense –"

"We will," he assured her. "But the trial isn't for a little while, and we can't do it all in one night."

Hermione continued to scrutinize him for another long moment before she sighed.

"Oh, alright," she said, standing and collecting her books and papers. "Say hello to Mrs. Tonks and Teddy for me, then."

"You could come with me," Harry offered, but she shook her head.

"No, not tonight," Hermione said apologetically. "You should invite Ginny, though."

"She's out with her new teammates," Harry explained. "Otherwise I would."

Next Friday, he would take her with him. He visited Teddy every week, and if Ginny was going to be his wife someday, then she should get to know his godson.

Harry escorted Hermione to the door, where she stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. Once she was gone, Harry raised his hand to the spot her lips had brushed. She was so much more tactile than anyone else he knew, even the Weasley family. Eight years of friendship still hadn't let him adjust to it.

Sighing, he grabbed his cloak from the hook by the door and stepped out onto the stoop. Andromeda had closed her Floo during the war, and she still maintained a fear of having it open, so Harry had to Apparate to the front walkway. It was a good thing the Tonks residence was set away from other houses, or otherwise Muggles would have seen him appear outside the gate.

"Hello, Harry," Andromeda called from the kitchen as soon as he opened the door. "Teddy's diaper needs changing, do you mind doing that?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Tonks," he responded. She eyed him, and smiling, he corrected himself, "Andromeda."

Her face relaxed into a smile of her own as he lifted Teddy from the highchair and carried the baby to the backroom. He spoke soothingly to Teddy, despite Teddy wiggling and trying to escape his hold, and prayed there wouldn't be any accidents today. He didn't want a repeat of the time he got sprayed in the face with urine. The experience was traumatizing enough the first time.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Harry said once Teddy was clean and changed. "Magic makes everything better, doesn't it?"

Teddy's hair changed to a grumpy shade of violet and he did not look pleased when Harry chuckled.

"Not too bad this time?" Andromeda asked with a small smile as they entered the kitchen again.

"Nope, he was a good little boy, weren't you, Teddy?" Harry cooed, carefully bouncing the baby in his arms. It had taken him a few months to realize that he wouldn't break Teddy as soon as he touched him.

Teddy lifted a small hand to Harry's hair and gripped it tightly, but didn't pull. The thumb of his free hand was in his mouth, giving him the picture of innocence. Laughing softly, Andromeda reached out to take her grandson from Harry, but the baby let out a loud shriek.

"No! Dada!" Teddy cried, refusing to let go of Harry's hair.

Tears sprung to Harry's eyes. He wasn't sure if it was from the surprisingly strong hold on his hair, or Teddy's words. A monstrous feeling rose in his chest, one unlike what he felt for Ginny. He was already mentally preparing for Andromeda to cast him from her house, never to see his godson again. He didn't deserve to be a part of their family.

"Oh," Andromeda breathed, her eyes blown wide.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, trying to pry Teddy's hand away.

She shook her head, her eyes appearing wet and the corner of her lips rising into a bitter smile. "No, it's alright," she said, gently settling Teddy back into Harry's arms. "So long as he knows who his real parents are, I don't mind what he calls you."

Harry's pulse raced and he automatically hugged Teddy to his chest.

"You – You're sure?" His voice was smaller than he intended.

Andromeda forced her smile bigger. "I'm sure, Harry."

Their gazes connected and Harry nodded in understanding as Teddy lay his head on his shoulder. Automatically Harry cupped the back of the baby's head, feeling the soft strands of mousy-brown hair. Teddy was always going to be Remus and Tonks' son, but he was a part of Harry, too.

The next week he returned, his heart much fuller when he swung Teddy up into his arms. Ginny had accompanied him this time, and she immediately took out Teddy's toy broom. Andromeda had snapped dozens of pictures as they played with Teddy out in the yard, and Harry's eyes stung when he saw one particular photo. It showed Teddy laughing as Harry chased him and Ginny looked amused as she watched them.

A lump formed in Harry's throat. Although the baby on the broom was completely different, and Ginny bore only a passing resemblance to his mother, it still reminded him of the photo he'd once found in Sirius' bedroom. He wished he had the other portion of that photo which contained his mother, but unfortunately, he had no idea what Snape had done with it.

A melancholy feeling swept over him and his gaze was drawn to his godson.

"I'll make sure your life is different," Harry whispered to him, his promise carried away by the breeze and left unheard beneath Teddy's laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

By entering The Leaky Cauldron from Charing Cross Road, no one noticed Daphne's arrival. She had never been more thankful to be what Pansy mockingly called 'a background Slytherin.' A couple months ago, when Theo had visited the alley, someone had identified him as the son of a Death Eater. The Aurors had done nothing to stop the crowd from attacking him and Theo swore he had barely escaped with his life. None of their group of friends had been here since then.

A familiar young woman rushed past Daphne on her way to fill another order. Daphne paused for a moment, watching her thoughtfully, and then a tipsy customer stumbled into her, distracting her from the waitress. Grimacing, Daphne pushed her way through the crowd to the back wall and quickly tapped the bricks, revealing a bustling street on the other side.

Diagon Alley seemed to have fully recovered in the year since the war officially ended. No longer were the windows and doorways covered by bars. Instead of speaking in low voices, people laughed aloud without a care as they stood beneath the store awnings. Parents called out to their children, warning them to not wander off too far, and Daphne's stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt and envy. Cora and Jason couldn't have that same experience, eyes wide with wonder as they explored the magical world.

The bookstore, thankfully, was less crowded. At the counter, Susan Bones was finishing up with another customer and only called out the customary greeting as Daphne entered the store. Daphne murmured a response and hurried toward the shelves labeled as the children's section.

Frowning, Daphne scanned the colorful books and realized she had no idea what stories were out right now.

"Is this for the kids?" a voice asked curiously from behind her.

Daphne made a small yipping sound as she looked over her shoulder.

"Don't do that!" she snapped accusingly.

Hannah smiled, but there was only a small edge of apology in the rise of her lips. She mostly looked amused.

"I thought it was you," she said. "What are you doing in the alley?"

Turning back to the shelf, Daphne cleared her throat. "It's Jason's birthday in a few days," she said gruffly. "I wanted to get him a book, so the other children would be less likely to steal it."

"And you couldn't order it via owl?"

Daphne shook her head. Since she lived in a Muggle area, she couldn't use as powerful of charms to distract them from magical activity. An owl would have looked suspicious to her neighbors.

Hannah leaned around Daphne and plucked a book from off the shelf behind her. "I've seen kids at the pub with this one," she said. "It might be above Jason's level, but I'm sure Cora would enjoy reading it to him."

"Or they can add it to the group collection," Daphne murmured. "Mr. Borg reads to all the younger kids before they go to bed."

Hannah's expression dulled as sadness clouded her features.

"Alexander ought to be the one doing that," she said softly, "and Vivien tucking them into bed at night. _God,_ they're too young for this."

Daphne's throat closed up as guilt nearly consumed her. There wasn't an appropriate age for any of this to be happening. It had been two years since her own father died and she still had moments where she wanted to cry because she missed him so much. Astoria hadn't taken off her necklace, a present from their father, since the day he died.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything for Noah."

Hannah shook her head. After her mother died, Hannah had taken off the last part of their sixth year in order to take care of her younger brother. Her biggest regret was letting him go to Hogwarts, but their father had turned into a drunkard, and though he'd never strike his children, Hannah had confessed she was afraid of staying with him.

"It's okay," she said quietly. "It was a precarious situation. I'm not sure you _could_ have done anything. Michael Corner got tortured when he tried."

"How is he? Noah, I mean."

"He's…better. He has a few friends, people he trusts, he says. I just…" Hannah sighed, and the weariness on her face and in her slumped shoulders belonged to an older woman, not someone so young. "I can't help worrying about him."

Daphne nodded in silent understanding. She felt the same way about Astoria, who was less than three years younger than her. Noah, however, had been a first-year and utterly defenseless when the Carrow twins decided to target him.

"What about Cora?" Hannah asked, switching topics but not overall subject. "Is she still having nightmares?"

Daphne grimaced. "She tries to hide them, but yes, she does." She hesitated, and then said softer, knowing she could trust Hannah, "Occasionally Mrs. Borg lets them spend the night with me, and sometimes, when I wake up, Cora's staring at Jason like she's afraid he'll disappear."

Hannah drew in her breath sharply. Turning away from Daphne, she took a moment to compose herself, hiding behind her blonde hair. It was no longer in pigtails, as it had so often been when they were younger. In a strange way, it was that, more than her more mature features, which served as a reminder that they had all lost their innocence.

From the front of the store, Daphne could hear other customers talking and laughing, and it all seemed so fake to her. She looked down at the book in her hands. The cover had a dark-haired boy waving a sword at a dragon. Her lips twisted. _How distasteful._

"Astoria's insisting on hosting a party," she said aloud without looking at Hannah. "It's at the Refuge, of course, but you're invited."

Hannah nodded. "I'll be there," she promised, "and I'll bring Noah. He's getting bored of the alley."

 _Which means he's living with you,_ Daphne realized but did not comment on. Instead she asked, with a forced teasing grin, "And your paramour?"

"My _what_?"

Hannah had done a double-take. Then her features smoothed into a grimace of her own and she glanced around warily, watchful of any potential eavesdroppers. Noting the small family standing nearby them, she took ahold of Daphne's elbow and marched her to the back of the store.

"Susan, we'll be in here for a little while," Hannah called over her shoulder.

"Okay, just don't –"

Susan looked up from counting the money, her eyes first widening and then narrowing when she saw Daphne being pulled into the small room. Daphne forced a reassuring smile in her direction. It ached a little on her mouth; she couldn't remember the last time she genuinely smiled.

"Out with it," Hannah ordered when they were alone. "How'd you know about the contract?"

"I guessed," Daphne replied, not wanting to reveal Tracey as her informant. "You and Longbottom didn't even speak with each other prior to seventh year, and then he was suddenly super protective of both you and Noah."

With a sigh, Hannah sank into one of the available chairs and covered her face with her hands. She stayed that way for a long moment before speaking slowly, as if still thinking about the words.

"It was made after my mum died," she admitted quietly. "There's no binding part to it, if either of us want out then we can. I think it was mostly made as an assurance for Neville's grandmother."

Daphne leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Why?" she asked simply.

Hannah fidgeted, glancing up at Daphne and then quickly looking away again. In a low voice, she said, "Neville took Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball, remember? Then there was that whole Ministry incident in our fifth year. Mrs. Longbottom probably thought he was sweet on Ginny."

Daphne's brows rose. "Is that a bad thing?"

"They're first cousins once removed," Hannah explained. "It would be like you or I marrying Jason."

The very thought of it made Daphne want to puke. Unfortunately, she wouldn't find it too surprising if Longbottom and the Weaslette got married. Of all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, the Weasleys were among the most incestuous. They deliberately bred to keep their red hair, which was seen by the Weaslette's interest in Potter. As for him, he probably just wanted to re-enact his parents.

"Potter doesn't know about the Weaslette, does he?" Daphne said wisely.

"No," said Hannah, "and you won't tell him, either. He deserves happiness, and if Ginny can give it to him, then so be it."

Daphne didn't bother hiding her snort. There'd never be an opportunity for her to tell Potter, much as she'd enjoy seeing his expression. _Well, maybe not_ enjoy _it,_ she considered, _but I'd take a picture for Tori. She'd_ love _it._

Although Daphne didn't know explicitly why Astoria disliked the Weaslette, she could guess the reasoning. The youngest Weasley had a reputation for hexing people who annoyed her, and Daphne doubted it got any better in her last year of school.

"I should get going," Daphne said, pushing up from the wall.

Hannah nodded. "You can use the Floo here," she said, gesturing to it. "Don't worry about paying for the book. I'll do that myself."

Then suddenly she rose from her seat and pulled Daphne into a loose but comforting hug.

"You're a good person, Daphne Greengrass," she whispered. "I believe it, even if nobody else does."

The words made Daphne's spine stiffen with embarrassment, and Hannah looked faintly amused as Daphne quickly disentangled herself. After a sincere farewell, Daphne stepped into the Floo, feeling overwhelmed in a good way. She could easily see why Mrs. Longbottom preferred Hannah as Neville's wife than the Weaslette, even without the incestuous relation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

Getting permission to visit the holding cells should have been much more of a challenge than the Auror on duty only shooting Harry a crooked smile. "Here to do some gloating, eh?"

"Right, gotta smother our victory in Malfoy's face," said Harry.

The Auror didn't seem to detect Harry's sarcasm. He finished his cursory search for any potential weapons, took Harry's wand, and then waved Harry through the door. Resisting an urge to roll his eyes, Harry walked slowly into the visitation room.

Sat at the table was Draco Malfoy. His unnaturally pale hair hung lank and tangled, a stark contrast to the immaculate appearance he had kept before the war. Light grey eyes devoid of emotion tracked Harry's progress across the room. He made no sound nor movement as Harry sat across from him.

"So." Harry cleared his throat. "Has your mother been to visit you?"

Malfoy's expression didn't change. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Harry noted that the concrete walls seemed to somehow glow. From his brief, intensive training as an Auror, Harry knew the glow indicated magic-suppressing wards. Even if Malfoy were able to get his hands on a wand, he wouldn't be able to use magic.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy's scratchy voice drew Harry from his thoughts.

Harry sat straighter in his seat. "Well, I'm here to help you, of course," he said, unfaltering under Malfoy's flat gaze.

A single snort conveyed Malfoy's opinion of the answer.

"The same way you helped my father, I suppose," he drawled. "Do you think you can manage it a second time, Potter? My father should have served no less than twenty years. What will I do? Zero?"

Harry's lips pinched together. He was getting the distinct impression that Malfoy didn't want his help.

"That was the intention, yes," he responded stiffly.

Eyes feverish, Malfoy leaned forward, his mouth curving up into a mocking grin which somehow reminded Harry of Sirius. "Tell you what, Potter. If I get off with no punishment, _you_ have to name one of your children after a Death Eater. I bet your little Weaslette will love that, eh?"

"Her name is Ginny," Harry snapped.

"Do we have a deal, though?"

There was no voice in Harry's head telling him to calm down and think straight. Instead he mirrored Malfoy's movements, his voice dropping into a steady, lower pitch as he said, "It's a deal."

Surprise crossed Malfoy's face before Harry continued.

"But only if _your_ child has the most pompous name anyone can come up with."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Harry kept their gazes locked, determined not to lose this silent game. Besides, he had already won. He'd have to consult Andromeda, but Harry was also fairly certain Evan Rosier was related to Malfoy. James Evan could honor both of Harry's parents while respecting the deal, too, and in the meantime Harry would convince Ginny that Severus was an awful choice.

"Alright, Potter," Malfoy said at last. "I hope to see you in the courtroom."

Harry gave him a cocky grin. "Never fear, Malfoy. You'll have the best legal expert in the nation at your side."

Although Malfoy's eyes had narrowed, Harry made no further assurance and stood. He was humming tunelessly as he exited the room, which made the Auror on the other side raise his eyebrows.

"To make him stew in misery," Harry explained lightly.

"Ah." The Auror nodded wisely, even though he still looked confused. "Well, here's your wand. Oh, and can I get an autograph? It's for my daughter."

Long since used to such requests, Harry conjured a piece of paper and signed his name on it, along with scratching a short note to the man's daughter. Then he headed out for his lunch-date with Ginny.

 **TS**

As soon as he Apparated into the Burrow's yard, a cry reached him from the porch.

"Harry!"

In a blur of motion, Ginny threw herself into his arms and immediately drew him into a kiss. Harry responded automatically and had just begun nibbling on her lower lip, asking entrance to her mouth, when someone giggled. Blushing madly, he drew back to see Mrs. Weasley watching them.

"Oh, go on," she said with a shooing motion. "Have fun on your date."

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I was hoping we could use the car," said Harry.

Her brows rose. "The one Arthur _hasn't_ added enhancements to?"

"That's the one," he replied with a grin.

She narrowed her eyes on them and Harry widened his smile. Just as he'd known she would, Mrs. Weasley caved in an instant.

"Oh, alright," she sighed. "Just make sure to _not_ use those enhancements."

In the shed Harry and Ginny found a replica of the old Ford Anglia. He touched his wand to the ignition, smiling as the car let out a low rumble. As he pulled out of the shed onto the dirt road, Ginny played with the radio until she found a station she liked. Then she turned up the volume and rolled down the windows.

"Ginny, we can't listen to wizarding music!" he yelled over the song. "What'll the Muggles think?"

"Who cares?" she shouted back to him. "They won't understand it anyway."

Conceding this point, he decided to let her enjoy the music. Besides, she looked so happy, dark red, flaming hair swaying as she bobbed her head to the rhythm. They passed between large open fields to the nearby town, where he intended to take her to the ice cream shop he and Ron had frequented while Harry still lived at the Burrow.

"Hey, what do you think this does?"

Ginny leaned forward to inspect one of the buttons on the dash. As she reached out to poke it, Harry gently knocked her hand away.

"I told your mum we wouldn't mess with anything," he reminded her.

She frowned at him. "Where's your sense of fun, Harry?"

Then, before he could do anything, she pressed the button. Water squirted across the windshield and Harry activated the wipers to clear off the droplets.

"Well that was disappointing," muttered Ginny, her voice barely intelligible over the music which was still blasting through the speakers.

When they reached the ice cream parlor, Ginny hopped out and turned to face him.

"I'm driving on the way back," she announced.

"Maybe next time," said Harry. "I still have work after this."

Ginny huffed but made no further comment. However, she did give him a hard glance when he opened the door for her. Harry got the feeling he'd done something wrong, but he didn't know what he'd done to offend her.

Inside the store, Ginny stared at the chalkboard menu listing the desserts and their corresponding prices. Her brow furrowed.

"Why would I want to eat a rocky road?" she murmured to Harry.

He frowned at her. "Haven't you ever been here before?"

"No, I've only been to town a few times. Diagon Alley was more fun." She looked at the flavor labels attached to the glass and then glanced up at him with a smile, all previous annoyance gone. "How about you choose a flavor for me?"

Harry did so and they sat down to enjoy the sugary cold ice cream. At one point, Ginny started to draw her wand to clean up a spill, and Harry had to grasp her wrist to prevent her from using magic in view of Muggles. She rolled her eyes but let him use the thin napkins to wipe up the ice cream.

As he started to tell her about his visit with Malfoy, Ginny interrupted him.

"You _are_ going to get Snape an Order of Merlin, aren't you? He did a lot to protect me, Harry. I wouldn't have made it out of Hogwarts without him."

Harry cast her a confused glance. "What d'you mean?"

"I left for Easter break, remember? And then I came back with Mum and Dad." Ginny grinned mischievously. "Dad wasn't expecting me to grab him when he Apparated."

Until now, it had not occurred to Harry that Ginny wasn't at Hogwarts the last month before the Final Battle. He looked into her eyes, still bright and innocent. She hadn't suffered the same torture as the rest of the DA, and he was so thankful for that. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Ginny had been in pain. That was probably why Snape protected her, so Harry wouldn't do something impulsive like barging into the castle to save her.

"Yeah, I'll talk to Kingsley about the medal," said Harry.

She smiled again. "Thanks, Harry. Oh, and I've thought of a name to go with Severus, since you don't want to use James."

He paused with his spoonful of ice cream hovering halfway to his mouth. A sense of dread was pooling in his stomach at the spark in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked warily.

"Albus Severus," she announced proudly. "Don't you think it's wonderful?"

 _Wonderfully wretched,_ was on the tip of Harry's tongue, but he swallowed down the automatic response.

"They go together," Harry said while forcing a smile. It was the most charitable thing he could say about the name.

Ginny nodded. "I'm glad you think so. Another option is Sirius Severus –"

"No, I like Albus Severus," Harry said hastily.

After all, Dumbledore was the only one who could stand Snape. Hopefully Harry could talk Neville into being the boy's godfather, too, because someone with such a horrible name was going to need a stabilizing influence.

 _Please don't let me have a second son_ , Harry prayed to all the gods which might exist.

He cleared his throat. "Since we're on the topic of names, I was thinking Ruby Lilian and –"

"Lily Luna," Ginny said firmly.

Harry blinked. "Eh?"

"Come on, Harry, think about it." Ginny gestured emphatically with her spoon as she spoke. "Luna doesn't have any friends except for us, and I doubt anyone will want to marry her. We should honor her, don't you think?"

"I suppose," he said doubtfully. "But don't you think it'd be weird to have two kids named directly after my parents? We could have another daughter and name her for Luna instead."

This last part was spoken with a touch of hope, but Ginny was already shaking her head.

"No, I'm not having more than three kids. Imagine what that would do to my body! I don't want to end up like my mum."

Although he wouldn't mind seven children, Harry remained quiet. It was Ginny's body and they'd start arguing if he pushed the issue. They saw each other so rarely that he didn't want to end the date on a bad note, so he smiled and dug his spoon into the ice cream.

* * *

 **AN:** Notice the 'eventually' in the summary? Harry and Daphne will be meeting soon, but remember, before they get together, Harry has to realize Ginny isn't the right woman for him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

"Mr. Potter!"

At the call of his name, Harry quickened his pace on the way to the lifts. People would panic if he outright ran through the atrium, but there was no way he was giving another interview today. Kingsley usually arranged press conferences for those. On his own, Harry tried to escape any reporter chasing him.

"Mr. Potter, the Minister is looking for you!" the same voice called.

Harry paused with his foot over the threshold of the lift. The woman inside looked at him expectantly and he shook his head at her before turning to the frazzled-looking man following him. As he heard the lift doors close behind him, Harry internally sighed. If Kingsley wanted him, then it was most likely for another publicity stunt.

"Does he want me immediately?" Harry asked.

He hoped the man would say no. The ice cream had been delicious, but Harry was getting the beginnings of a headache from a lack of real food. All he wanted to do was return to his desk, eat the sandwich Kreacher had prepared for him, and pretend he was doing something constructive with his time.

Unfortunately, Harry had bad luck.

"Yes, now," the man said crisply. His robes were lined in purple, marking him as part of the administrative staff. He looked thoroughly irritated to be running errands. "He expects you in his office as soon as possible."

This time Harry didn't repress his sigh. He nodded to the man and turned for the stairs. Kingsley's office overlooked the atrium, so he was probably watching from the window to see if Harry tried to run away.

"Hello, Harry," said Kingsley as he entered. "How's the family?"

"They're good," Harry replied. "Teddy's learned the word 'no', to Andromeda's utter horror."

Kingsley's lips quirked up. "I was actually referring to the Weasleys, but that's good to hear, too." Then he folded his hands on top of the desk, a clear sign that they were done with the pleasantries. "Is it true that you visited young Malfoy in the detainment cells?"

Harry decided to get this over with quickly. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, sir. Hermione's going to be his lawyer."

The Minister shook his head. "She's a paralegal, Harry. Until she passes the benchmark test, she'll only be doing the research for cases."

Harry had not known that. He trusted Hermione to find a good representative, though. Failing that, they might be able to push Malfoy's trial back until Hermione was a certified lawyer.

"We'll figure it out, sir," he replied with a shrug.

For a long moment, Kingsley studied him with a furrow brow. Harry sat straighter in his chair, trying to appear confident. When Kingsley finally spoke, he did so slowly, as though he were choosing his words carefully. "Harry, is Mrs. Malfoy threatening you?"

"Of course not, sir," Harry said calmly. "I'm helping her because she helped me."

Kingsley's brows drew even closer. He had not been labeled the best Auror for nothing. Harry tried to keep his features smooth, ignoring his rapid heartbeat. He and Ron would figure out what Narcissa had on Ginny soon enough. After all, they were experts at solving mysteries.

"If that's all, sir," Harry said, still in the same even tone, "there's another thing I want to talk about. Ginny wants Snape to get an Order of Merlin."

To his surprise, Kingsley let out a single, disbelieving laugh. His smile only faded when he saw that Harry was serious. Then his expression became grave. His eyes were dark as he said, "That's impossible, Harry. It would cause an uproar."

"But he saved me and Ginny," Harry protested. "The students would have died without him."

"If Snape was half as clever as he claimed," Kingsley said in a dark, serious tone, "then the students wouldn't have suffered at all. They were _raped_ , Harry, boys and girls alike. Tortured. Turned against each other. Snape might have saved them from death, but he did not save them from suffering."

"But that was the Carrows doing that –"

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Did Snape try to stop them?"

Harry's cheeks burned as he looked down at his hands. He'd seen the students in the Room of Requirement. Many of them, like Neville, still bore scars even now. After all, the Carrows had used Dark magic to torture the students, and most of those spells left permanent disfigurements. Michael Corner had one hand removed to prevent a curse from spreading to the rest of his body.

"Tell Ginny to be satisfied with Snape's portrait," Kingsley said sternly. "I can do nothing more for her."

Harry nodded silently and stood up from the chair. Dread snaked into his heart as he headed for the door. He was certain that Ginny would insist upon naming their son after Snape now. There really wasn't any other way to honor the man she considered a hero.

 _The press will be over us when he's born,_ Harry thought miserably. Now more than ever, he hoped they didn't have a second son. For a brief moment, he even considered finding a way to ensure he had nothing but daughters, but then he decided that would be unfair to Ginny.

His feet took him to the Auror Headquarters by memory. Most of the rookies were missing, including Ron and Neville, so they must be out on another mission. Harry wasn't ever allowed to join them unless the Ministry considered it safe for him. Kingsley wasn't about to risk losing his poster boy.

After a mediocre lunch, Harry decided to bother Hermione. She was likely to send him away if he was too distracting, but right now all he wanted was some company.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was large and much like a maze. Harry had to wander the corridor for a long time before he finally found the door to the Wizengamot Administration Services. When he opened the door, he nearly walked into two blonde women who stood on the other side. One of them looked vaguely familiar, and it took Harry moment to recognize her golden blonde hair. Her green eyes flashed when she saw him blocking the way out of the office.

"Excuse us," she said with forced politeness.

Harry side-stopped to let them pass by him. "Sorry," he said, but she ignored him as she pulled the younger woman out the door.

"I told you it wouldn't work," he heard the other woman mutter.

"Not now, Astoria," snapped the woman with green eyes.

Once the door had closed behind them, Harry turned to find everyone in the outer office area watching him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet. "Er, d'you know where I can find Hermione Granger?"

"Through there, Mr. Potter," said the secretary, pointing to another door.

People started moving again once she'd spoken. With fewer eyes on him now, Harry navigated his way to the door labelled _Attorney Brocklehurst_ , with _Paralegal Granger_ in smaller letters underneath it. No one answered when he knocked on the door, so after another attempt he opened it and peeked inside the room. He could barely see Hermione through the stacks of books and papers on her desk.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Hermione didn't answer, so he repeated the question. At last she looked up, her eyes wide she saw him standing there. "Oh, Harry! Sorry, but I'm really busy right now –"

"I'll just sit in the corner," he said quickly. "It's just, well, everyone's gone on the Lestrange case and I have nothing to do…"

"The Lestrange case?" Hermione looked alarmed. "Ron said he had a mission today. They wouldn't have a rookie on the case, right?"

"He's fine," Harry assured her. "Rabastan's been on the run for a year, and I doubt he'd show up at an old crime scene. Anyway, I also wanted to ask if you want to see the orphanage this Saturday. I'm bringing Teddy, too, if Andromeda agrees."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I know what you're doing, Harry Potter, and I'm still very much worried." Then she let a low, frustrated sigh. "But there's nothing I can do right now."

She fixed him with another shrewd look as she pointed to the only other chair available.

"You can sit there, but you can't say or touch anything, and if my boss comes in, you'd better turn on the Potter charm."

Harry saluted her. "Sir, yes sir!"

"And you'll tell me more about the Refuge," she added. "I'd very much like to go with you."

"But I'm not supposed to talk," Harry said cheekily.

Hermione balled up a blank sheet of parchment and threw it at him, which Harry could admit he deserved.


End file.
